Forbidden Hero
by MBallyntyne
Summary: Virgil visibly restrained himself. "He's the only aquanaut we've got and, more importantly, he's the only Gordon we've got. Don't you dare tell me not to save my own brother."
1. Chapter 1

So, this is my very first multi-fic ever. Well. Mostly. Okay, I split it into two; the second part will probably be coming on Sunday.

There's hurt Gordon, Virgil and Scott angst, and a little Virgil whump.

Enjoy!

* * *

"I just can't believe you, Gordon! You were stupid and you almost got yourself killed! You almost got Virgil killed as well!" Scott was yelling as he stomped ahead of the red-head, arms waving as he ranted, looking straight ahead to avoid eye contact and the guilt Gordon knew would follow if they looked at each other. Gordon imagined he looked like a real mess.

Admittedly Gordon had been a little reckless but if Scott would have done the same thing in a heartbeat.

_Such a hypocrite._

His head ached with a fierce pain, pounding to the beat of his heart and breathing was becoming difficult. Scott was wavering in Gordon's vision and his fuzzy outline wasn't doing anything for the young man's stomach. His arms also stung, considering they had taken the brunt of the heat, but he didn't need to be a medic to tell that it wasn't bad. Virgil had even said so himself. It simply felt like someone had tightened his skin.

"As soon as we get home I'm having the pool drained and I'm telling Dad. He should sort you out soon enough. I just can't believe you'd put your brother in that kind of danger!" Gordon barely heard him.

"Scott," Gordon murmured. The corners of his vision were starting to fade into darkness and fuzziness be damned, he could barely see anything at all now. Maybe he'd hit his head harder than he thought.

"… But _no_, Gordon has to play the _hero_ …" It was a good thing they were out of civilians' eyes, Scott was now doing a mocking re-enactment. Gordon swallowed heavily.

"Scott," he said a little louder.

"'I'm Gordon, I'm just going to run back into a burning building, almost get flattened by a beam and make Virgil disobey orders and run in after me to drag my sorry ass out before I get fried to a crisp!'"

"Scott!" The eldest Tracy son finally turned around.

"What?" He asked harshly. Gordon opened his mouth to answer but no sound came out. He closed it again and gulped painfully. The nausea was getting worse. His vision was getting worse. If he had to take a shot in the dark he'd guess his breathing was getting worse too.

Gordon swayed on his feet and the sight of this finally bought Scott to a mental halt. The eldest Tracy couldn't remember if he'd even asked the red-head if he was alright. In fact, now that he thought about it, he definitely hadn't. He'd just helped Virgil pull the young man out of the burning doorway, listened to the field medic's diagnosis, and commenced yelling at both of them. Virgil now wasn't speaking to him and it wasn't the wisest move on his part if Gordon's pallor was anything to judge by.

Gordon couldn't see a thing now, his sight was completely absent, black fog filling his eyes. He felt himself sway again.

"Gordon?" The voice sounded like it was coming through a tunnel, so very far away. He could no longer remember who it belonged to either, the concussion coming into play with a winning hand. "Hey, are you okay?" Gordon could feel the moment both of his knees buckled and he sank gratefully into the darkness, distant shouting and loud footsteps disappearing around him.

* * *

He swam for a while in the fog. It was a comforting feeling, all warm and cozy, like a being wrapped in a blanket on a cold winter's night. Instinctively he knew that this was closer to the truth than it seemed, only it wasn't winter the blanket was protecting him from. It was pain, dull throbbing pain all the way through his head. And, he gasped, there it was.

Something was ripping holes in the blanket, the pain pushing its way through. He moaned and twisted trying to escape, not getting very far. Something with an iron grip held him in one place. For the first time sound drifted through his cocoon.

" … Hold still … won't … almost … Virgil … right here …" There was movement, he could hear it and feel it, something was brushing against his chest. Another flame started, only this time it was in his arm. There was a sudden prick and the fire went away, only to be followed by ice, cool ice, so sweet and gentle; it put out the fire. He relaxed, soothed, and drifted away again.

* * *

The next time the comfort cocoon wore off he felt enough pain to open his eyes with a moan. Everything above him was fuzzy, with a sort of furry outline, hard to distinguish. He whimpered at the tightness of his head. It wasn't as bad as before but it still hurt enough to matter. The surface he was lying on was rumbling, making his headache worse. Bright brown eyes, tight with worry, appeared suddenly above him. He turned his head away in an attempt to be left on his own.

" … Can you … me? Gordo … feel anything? Do you … anywhere?" Needless to say his hearing wasn't any better with the redoing of complete consciousness but by catching of the ends of the questions he was able to discern what was being asked. Most of the time.

The voice kept talking but Gordon ignored it. His head was still too muddled to answer coherently and the bright light was starting to get to him and the pain was taking a harder hold and the nausea, which until this moment had been absent, began making a encore performance. He moaned a little and shut his eyes, leaving the world and it's questions behind.

* * *

The next time he woke it was to an incessant tapping on his cheek and a concerned voice.

"Hey, Gordo, it's been a while since you last opened your eyes, Virgil's getting worried." As far as Gordon could hear and discern, it was Scott and he sounded worried. Or bored. That at least would explain the tapping. And was more likely considering Scott was angry with him. Call him a coward but he really didn't want to wake up to face a furious eldest brother.

"I've turned the lights off and Virgil would really like to check that concussion of yours."

_He doesn't sound angry. Maybe Virgil isn't hurt. _He seemed to remember Scott yelling something about Virgil. _Is Virgil hurt? Or maybe Scott is just saving it for later because Dad is here. Wait, Dad's at a business function with Alan–_

"Yeah, come on, Fish, wake up for us, why don't you?" And _that_ would be Virgil, sounding much further away. He sounded a little croaky. The young man in question slowly, very slowly, squinted his eyes open only to see a face much too close to his. He flinched back and winced.

Immediately Scott was out of his chair, leaning over Gordon and calling for Virgil. Gordon winced harder and squeezed his eyes shut with a whimper.

"Sorry, sorry," said Scott at a whisper. His hand made it's way to Gordon's forehead, stroking back his hair. Gordon flinched away.

_That hand could just as easily be hurting me because Scott is angry and Virgil is hurt and the boy was hurt as well and–_

Virgil came over dressed in what was known in the Tracy household as his 'work' clothes. Gordon could see the tiny red marks made from the burning debris on his exposed arms. He was holding the small penlight that Gordon had come to dread after years of accidents.

"Hey," he said softly. His face was professional but that was just his way of coping. Gordon knew enough to look beyond it and see the immense relief hiding in the brown eyes. "How are you feeling?" Gordon pulled his fish-technique again. Scott frowned and reached over the top of him for a container of ice chips.

_Scott is frowning. Scott is angry. Virgil is hurt. The boy is hurt too._

"Here." He took one out and placed it on Gordon's tongue. Gordon spat it out but Scott just pushed another one in when he opened his mouth to tell his brother to back away. Gordon was surprised. The coolness of it soothed his throat and the young man coughed quietly.

"'M'okay," he croaked.

"Liar," came the immediate response, followed by more ice chips. They felt too good to spit out again and so he warily let Scott feed him.

"Y'okay?" He asked Virgil but nothing could be heard around the ice chips except an incoherent mumble. He repeated himself a little louder, turning his head to face his immediate older brother and determinedly ignoring the fireworks that burst behind his eyes.

"Gordon, hold still." Scott grabbed Gordon's head gently between his hands to stop him from squirming and Virgil shone his penlight into each of Gordon's eyes, watching closely as the pupils dilated. Gordon whimpered again with the thought of Scott touching him.

_Scott was yelling. Scott is angry. Virgil is hurt. The boy is hurt bad. He's crying–_

"They're still a little uneven," he mused thoughtfully, eyebrows furrowing. "I'm going to keep him down here for observation. He's still got light burns on his arms and I don't like the incoherency." Scott looked at him and nodded. Gordon frowned at him. Or them. He wasn't sure any more. He knew he'd done something bad and Scott was angry with him but he was really tired, too tired to think. His eyes flickered closed for a second.

"Wanna … go t'bed." It came out as an incoherent mumble, merely an expression of Gordon's thoughts, and he wasn't expecting an answer. So when one came it made him jump.

"No." He shrunk away from Scott's unintentional harsh voice, turning pleading eyes to Virgil instead.

"P'ease?" Virgil shook his head from where he was turned away from the both of them and Scott answered for him.

"No way, Gordo. You're staying here." Scott fixed him with The Eye and Gordon shut up. Nothing good came from disobeying The Eye.

Gordon blinked and suddenly there was a swimming sensation both behind his eyes and spread across the room. He blinked again. Everything was wavy, going up and down and up and down and up … His eyes drifted to the side away from Scott. Coincidentally the side where Virgil stood slightly sheepishly beside the IV connected to the back of Gordon's hand.

He could hear his eldest brother mutter worriedly to Virgil, and hear Virgil reassure him. Suddenly a hand landed on his forehead.

"Hey," said Virgil quietly. "You're okay. You can go to sleep now." And he was gone.

* * *

He opened his eyes. His head wasn't pounding nearly as much, in fact it felt rather like a bad itch, probably the result of the drugs. It was incessantly annoying but not painful. Neither were his arms, dabbed in cream.

The burns Virgil mentioned. He had a _huh_ moment, and looked around for anyone else in the room. The infirmary was empty, the computers beeping and keeping track of him by themselves. Gordon grinned.

He unwrapped his wrists from the various monitoring devices, glad to see that Virgil had taken him off of the IV.

_It must have been a while since I last woke up._

He swung his legs out of the bed and onto the floor but found when he went to balance himself his knees buckled. He fell, dragging his blanket with him so that both wayward limbs and cotton material landed in a tangle on the cold floor. The monitors clanged next to him, not set off but bumping into on another.

_Ouch. That hurt. Virgil's hurt. Scott's angry. The boy's got a broken leg. He was crying. Virgil saved me. The boy was crying. The boy was crying. The boy was– _He winced with the sudden onslaught of twisted memories. It was back. Mostly.

He remembered the boy crying with the broken leg and then running into the building to get the boy's sister. There had been a bang and then Virgil's face and then Scott's and then nothing. And then the yelling.

He looked up from the floor of the infirmary to check if anyone was coming in at a run. They weren't. It was just as quiet as it had been before, maybe more so considering Gordon had managed to knock the monitors in the fall and pull the plug out of the wall.

_You're a ninja._

He grinned to himself. Now, to set out on his quest. He stood up slightly shakily, grabbing the bed at one point for support, and started to make his way out of the door.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

So, second chapter people! Still don't own them. Thank you for all the reviews by the way; they were very encouraging!

Notes: I've edited the speaking parts to make sure readers know who's talking, and unfortunately John isn't in this story very much. Sorry! He'll be in one of the new stories coming up. I find him very hard to write, but here's to a challenge!

Also, I've decided to split the story in three, so there is another part coming.

Enjoy!

* * *

"Virge, he almost got you killed." Virgil still refused to look at him. "C'mon Virge, talk to me. I know you're angry–"

"Don't patronize me."

"Yeah, well, I wouldn't have to if you'd just tell me what's bothering you!" Virgil spun around, red in the face and angrier than Scott had ever seen him.

"I SHOULDN'T HAVE TO!" He yelled, turned again, and started towards the infirmary at a fast walk. Scott scurried to keep up.

"Virge, I–"

The door to the infirmary opened ahead of them automatically and they strode in, Scott quieting enough not to wake Gordon if he was still asleep.

Gordon wasn't asleep. Gordon wasn't even in the room.

Virgil cursed and strode over to check on the instruments that had been monitoring the red-head before he woke. The monitors were slightly askew but the readings were fine, simply indicating that Gordon's neural readings had gotten stronger before disappearing completely. He swore again, turning to look at Scott. Scott was standing by the door, unsure what to do, or even what was properly going on.

"Gordon's escaped,"said Virgil curtly, striding back passed him back to the stairs. "We're going to need to find him. He may say he's feeling alright but he's still got a concussion. He could be confused."

He grabbed the handrail and flung himself up the stairs three at a time with Scott trailing behind him.

"Where would he go?"

I don't know," Virgil admitted reluctantly. As loathe as he was to have to speak to his brother, he would need Scott's help if he wanted to find the red-head. "If he's confused, he could be anywhere."

Hearing the panic starting to assert itself in Virgil's tone, Scott put a strong hand on the brunette's shoulder, holding him from tearing down the corridors.

"Don't touch me," Virgil growled, shaking off the hand. "I'll find him myself." With the immediate change of mental plans he left Scott looking forlorn at the top of the stairs and started towards Gordon's bedroom.

_It's a pity that Dad and Alan are away on the mainland; Alan would be a great asset in this twisted version of hide-and-seek. _

Gordon was not in his bedroom, nor anywhere by the pool. Ohana, Kyrano, Tintin, Fermat, and Brains joined in the search; even John was recruited to join the hunt when Scott called him. But even the eye in the sky saw no sign of him on any of the monitors. Until he checked to see where Virgil was.

Virgil's watch beeped. He answered it absently as he walked into TB2's silo.

"Yeah, John?"

_'Hey Virge,' _came the cheery reply. '_Scott called me. Heard you lost someone.'_

"This isn't funny, John," he growled, marching passed TB2 to check on the other side. "He could be hurt." John smiled, not worried in the slightest. In fact, as much as he was upset that Gordon had managed to smash his head in again, he was quite enjoying the experience of one-upping his younger brother.

_'Don't worry, he's not. Why don't you use your watch to find him?'_

"I took it off of him after the rescue; I needed to treat his burns. And how do you know?" John chuckled.

_'Have you checked in your bedroom?'_

Virgil froze, then took off towards the elevator.

* * *

Virgil burst into his bedroom, flinging the door wide open, and froze. On his bed lay the red-head they were all looking for, sprawled on his stomach across his blankets with the pillow in a tight grip. Gordon blinked at the noise and, seeing his middle brother standing wide-eyed by the door, lifted his head a little.

"'M sorry, Virge," he mumbled almost incoherently into the pillow. "Didn't wan' you to get hurt." Virgil blinked. Of all the things he expected to come out of that mouth, this was not one of them. Well, now that he thought about it, it kind of was. Gordon had taken in what Scott had said after all, even in all that confusion because of the concussion.

_Damn Scott. _

"Hey, Fish," he said softly, sitting gently down beside the half-asleep boy. Gordon was glad, his head still felt like someone was revving a chainsaw right between his ears.

"Was the boy okay?" For a second Virgil was stumped, uncertain what his brother was talking about.

"Gordo, what– oh. Oh, yeah, he's fine. We dropped him off at the hospital with the rest of the injured. You were pretty out of it, we considered getting you checked out as well."

Gordon just blinked at him.

"Shouldn't'a made you … make 'a choice," he mumbled into the pillow, clearly on his way out. Virgil smiled grimly.

"It was mine to make. But if you ever pull something like that again, prank or not, I will kill you. Understood?"

"Sleeping here, 'kay?" Gordon rolled over so that his back faced his older brother but Virgil knew that it was an, if grudging, acknowledgement.

* * *

Scott burst into Virgil's room.

"Where's Gordo–" he stopped abruptly, seeing Gordon in the bed asleep and Virgil looking at him flatly. He cringed and shifted from one foot to another like a child who knew he was in trouble.

"Sorry," he murmured. "Kyrano told me you were up here. I wondered if you'd found Gordon but…" He waved a hand at the now snoring figure on the bed. Virgil moved so that he was standing in Scott's face.

"Get out."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. Get. Out. You have no right to be concerned for him."

"I don't understand. Is this about what happened on the rescue? Because I'm not in the wrong there." Virgil blew up.

"_Not in the wrong_?" he shrieked, shoving Scott backwards. "How is telling me to leave Gordon behind 'not in the wrong'?"

Scott's eyes widened.

"Virgil, I had to make that choice. The building Gordon ran into–"

"He was saving a child! How many times to I have to tell you? It's not Gordon's fault, Scott. It's yours."

"I specifically told you not to go after him, Virgil. In case you haven't noticed I'm the field commander. I make the decisions and you follow them."

"We are separate people, Scott! You may call the shots but you don't control what goes on!"

"How can I go into a situation when the people I am depending on don't follow my orders?" Scott was starting to get riled up.

"How can I go in when my field commander blatantly disregards his crew's lives? His own brother's? You can talk all you want about International Rescue but Gordon can't save anyone if he's dead!" He visibly restrained himself. "He's the only aquanaut we've got and, more importantly, he's the only Gordon we've got. Don't you dare tell me not to save my own brother."

"That boy with the broken leg needed help and you left him behind. It's on your conscience."

Virgil's eyes hardened and his face became stony.

"Then let it be. Both him and Gordon are safe."

"You couldn't have known that! And International Rescue would have left someone behind."

"Yeah, an operative! If Gordon had died, how could you've lived with yourself, knowing it was your decision to leave him behind and save the others?" What Virgil was saying finally hit Scott and he stood stock-still, mouth slightly open. Then he frowned in confusion.

"Wait, you–"

But, with timing perfect to his nature, a small voice called from the doorway.

"You wanted to leave me behind?" Gordon stood, wide-eyed, swaying slightly, and looking extremely small.

"No, Gordo, I–"

"Yeah," said Virgil viciously, putting an arm around Gordon's shoulders and pulling him close. "He did."

"Gordon, listen," Scott implored, "I needed to–"

"He was more concerned with the boy with the broken leg."

"Is he okay?" Gordon looked up at his elder brother in concern. Virgil frowned slightly, but nodded and squeezed his shoulder.

"He's fine. He's in hospital with the rest of the injured. Meanwhile, Scott here–"

"I COULDN'T LOSE BOTH OF YOU! I couldn't. I couldn't let you and Gordon …"

"But we didn't. You didn't think about how much worse this family would feel for leaving someone behind." Scott ignored him, more concerned with trying to take that awful sad look off of his red-haired brother's face.

"Gordo, you need to believe me. I wanted to get you out of there more than Virgil did."

Gordon had heard far more of the yelling than both of them knew, and he'd _heard_ it too. Virgil, he could see, was far too angry to really listen to what Scott was trying to tell him.

"It's okay, Scott," he said smiling a little. "I believe you. You weren't going to leave me behind. And I get it, I really do. It's okay." He turned to Virgil and poked him in the chest with a finger, pushing him back a little from where he was keeping a tight grip on his shoulders. Virgil looked a little shocked. "You don't like the fact that Scott made you stay back from rescuing little ol' me. But Scott knows what he's doing." He turned back to Scott. "But don't just expect him to stay back when a dumb aquanaut has got himself into a flaming mess. You thick-heads have trust issues,"he muttered to himself.

And just like that the tension dissipated. It wasn't gone and would probably rear it's snarling head later between Scott and Virgil, but for now there was peace.

Virgil chuckled.

"Regular little mind reader, aren't you, Fish?" He grinned, but Gordon still couldn't help but realise that he was studiously avoiding Scott's eyes, whether from guilt about the yelling or from something else, Gordon didn't know. Scott however looked a little upset.

Gordon blinked and the corridor wavered.

"Yeah, a regular unconscious mind reader if I don't sit down in the next two seconds," came the tired reply. He rubbed his eyes and swayed. Both Virgil and Scott grabbed an arm.

"You can sleep in my room tonight," said Virgil. They turned together and manoeuvred the red-head into the room. "I'll camp out in yours." But when he went to leave, Gordon grabbed his arm, mindful of the small burns.

"Mini Tracy sleepover," he mumbled. Scott grinned.

"Been a long time since I've heard that," he said heading out. "I'll grab some pillows."

They set up a small camp-out on Virgil's double bed, Gordon already fast asleep in the middle.

"Do you think we should get some painkillers for him?"

"Hmm?" Virgil looked over his younger brother's prone body. "Nah, he'll be fine for tonight. The best thing for him is sleep." They lay down on either side of their snoring brother.

"Dad's gonna be surprised," Scott chuckled putting his hands behind his head and relaxing. Virgil wasn't yelling anymore, maybe Scott had gotten the point across. Gordon snuffled a little next to him and he rubbed the back of the red-head's head gently. He quieted down.

"Yeah."

"Night."

"Night." And in the midst of the darkness there was a very quiet, "I'm still cross with you, you know."

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Third chapter. It's a little bit sappy, sorry, but I think both Virgil and Scott need it!

Enjoy!

* * *

The next day Virgil woke early, the sun streaming in between the curtains that had been left partly open. Gordon lay snoring next to him and Scott was spread across the other side of the bed, hanging precariously on the edge where one nudge from Gordon's errant foot would send him into a rude awakening.

The Mini Tracy sleepover.

Ever since their Mum had died there had been an onslaught of bad dreams resulting in the Tracy's joining each other so that they could band together to fight the terrors. More often than not the battle took place in Virgil's bedroom, though Virgil rarely realised; he usually slept right through the night.

However the younger two Tracy's were none too fond of sleeping by themselves, even Alan who was barely two at the time, hence why they snuck into their older brother's bedroom in the early hours of the morning and made themselves comfortable in his bed. Over the course of the night somehow all five Tracy sons ended up in that bed, Scott to check on the younger ones and John because it was peaceful. Virgil suspected that they were more scared than they let on; he'd heard Scott sleep-talking more than once.

Scott had named it the Annual Mini Tracy Sleepover in order to make it sound less girly that the four boys were sleeping in their brother's bed - two of them older than the owner of the bed. John didn't see how this name made it sound any less girly, in fact he thought it made it more so, but Scott ignored him and the name stuck.

If Virgil ever wondered why his father bought him a double bed the next year, he never asked. Scott was under the impression that Virgil was awake during the invasions and actually enjoyed the company, but John pointed out that Virgil would be a lot more grumpy being woken up at one o'clock in the morning, and none of them had been decapitated yet (a favourite threat of the middle Tracy), so how could he possibly be awake?

Virgil, however, knew exactly what was going on and didn't mind that the others sought solace in his room, even though it routinely left him waking up on the floor or with an incredibly sore back.

He crawled off of the bed, the blanket that he hadn't realised was there dropping to the ground in a puddle of dark blue. It was too early, much earlier than he usually got up, but worrying about Gordon's head and thinking about how he and Scott would react to each other later in the day had kept him up well past when both of his brothers had fallen asleep. Scott had gotten up at some point in the night, presumably to go to the bathroom, but Virgil had ignored him.

He stretched, wincing as the aching muscles pulled in his back, crept out to the lounge and headed into the kitchen, dumping the blanket that had trailed behind him onto the couch in the hope that he could catch up on sleep later. A movement on the TV stopped him. John's face popped up.

_'Hey Virge,'_ he grinned. _'How're you feeling?'_

"Sore," came the reply. John laughed.

_'Yeah, you look it.'_ He fiddled with something off screen and turned back to his brother, smile replaced by a grimace. _'I heard your fight with Scott last night.'_

"So you know he's being a–" Virgil still wasn't very happy with Scott's decision to leave Gordon in the building. He'd been saving someone, the boy with the broken leg's sister, just like an International Rescue operative should, and Scott's order to leave Gordon in the building still stung.

John shifted uncomfortably and interrupted.

_'Virge, I think there's something you should see.'_

John's face was replaced by a video, which Virgil recognised as the rescue from the days before. Scott was yelling something into a microphone, his body wound and tense, ready to snap at the slightest obstacle.

_'This was after you told him Gordon had entered the burning building.'_ He hesitated for a second. _'You might want to sit down.'_ John turned on the sound and loud orders filled the room. Virgil stood stunned.

"You need to … just get him out … no, I'll be down there … I DON'T CARE, JUST GET HIM OUT ALIVE!"

Virgil watched as Scott slammed down the receiver of the phone and fiddled with the controls, landing the 'Bird. He watched as Scott ran for the opening hatch. He watched Scott through the windshield as he sprinted for the burning building both Gordon and Virgil were now inside.

At the rescue he'd assumed Scott had landed to pick up the injured; that had been the reason he'd stayed inside of Virgil's 'Bird as opposed to his own during the rescue. Virgil had been needed on the surface as a field medic. Now he could see that Scott hadn't given the waiting injured a second glance.

He'd assumed that Scott had happened to be outside of the door after finishing with the wounded. His eyes hadn't been clear enough to notice that they were all still lined up when he came out of the building.

He'd assumed the fire-fighters had finished their work with the other buildings and come to put out the one they were trapped in last. Instead Scott had gathered them up and sent them to the building both younger Tracy's were in and made them put it out first. Rescuers couldn't save anyone if they were dead.

He'd assumed the on-hand oxygen tank both himself and Gordon had had access to was only there because it was finished with by others.

And, most importantly, he'd assumed that Scott had told him to leave Gordon there, stuck in the building to die a fiery death alone. But he watched the video and saw that as soon as he'd called Scott with the news, Scott had started making his own plans of rescue. He hadn't cut off from Virgil to think about the heavy decision he'd supposedly made of leaving Gordon behind. He'd been organizing the few fire-fighters that were left in a rescue mission for their younger brother. And, from the look of the half-donned fire-proof suit, he intended to be at the head of the party.

"Oh God." Virgil's face was white and his hands started shaking.

He hadn't listened yesterday when Scott had been trying to tell him that Gordon wasn't going to be left behind; that he, Scott, would be going to rescue him with the help of the fire-fighters as opposed to a single man recklessly diving in without a plan.

He hadn't listened when Scott had told him not to go into the building, and both him and Gordon had almost been killed because of it.

He hadn't listened to Scott at all.

* * *

"Gordon kicked me off the bed," Scott moaned as he walked into the room. He noticed Virgil standing perfectly still in the middle of the lounge and headed towards him. "You're going to need to – Virgil, are you alright?" he asked urgently, striding forward and grabbing his brother's arms. "You look like you're about to pass out. Here, sit down." He tried to lead Virgil over to a chair but found that he couldn't move him.

"Virgil, seriously, I think…"

Virgil's head was hanging, his shoulders tensed up and his feet were stubbornly refusing to move.

"Virge?" Scott asked hesitantly.

Virgil, in one sudden movement, grabbed Scott and wrapped his arms around him in a tight hug.

"I'm so sorry," he said almost silently. Scott's arms came around his brother readily.

"That's," he cleared his throat uncertainly. "That's okay, although I'm a little surprised at the sudden change of tone. I thought you hated me?"

"I don't hate you," mumbled Virgil into Scott's t-shirt miserably.

"Well, I still think you ought to sit down. Hate me or not, you're still really pale." This time Virgil let him lead him to the couch where Scott noticed the TV still on.

"John showed you then."

Virgil nodded, face still buried in his older brother's shoulder.

"Traitor," huffed Scott. "I told him not to show you; I knew it would upset you. It seems you're not the only one who doesn't follow his field commander's orders, huh?"

Virgil shook his head silently, back shivering.

"Doesn't help my villainous image much, does it?"

Virgil shook his head again. Scott sighed.

"You really thought I was leaving Gordon behind, didn't you. It didn't occur to you that I told you to stay away for your own safety? You could have been seriously injured as well. It's a miracle that neither of you were seriously hurt." He paused. "You know I would never leave any of you behind, right? Never. I will always come back for you." Virgil didn't respond and Scott reached over him to grab the blanket he had trailed out of his bedroom when he'd gotten up. Virgil quivered as Scott let go and huddled closer once he'd thrown the blanket over him. Scott, unsurprised at the tactile response and clingyness, just wrapped his arms around him again and sat, just sat, relaxing in the quiet as Virgil most likely cried himself to sleep again.

Gordon came in ten minutes later, rubbing his head slightly.

"Hey," he said. "He okay?" He nodded at the still form resting against Scott who was now sprawled across the couch. Scott smiled.

"Yeah," he replied softly. "Just a bit of delayed shock. And not much sleep for the last few hours. Probably too busy worrying about someone's head." Gordon grinned.

"It's much better," he said in answer to the silent question and headed into the kitchen to grab some breakfast.

"Hey, Gordo," Scott called softly through the doorway and dining room.

"Yeah?" Came the reply. There was a bang and the sound of something flopping over. Scott winced, stopping when Virgil shifted slightly.

"You know I'd never leave any of you behind, right?" There was silence except for the sound of something pouring in the kitchen. Gordon came back in, bowl of cereal in hand and raised an eyebrow as he came to stand in front of Scott.

"I'm not going to answer that. It's insulting." Then, as a thought popped into his head, he frowned. "I never asked before, but what happened to that boy's sister? Is she okay?" He flapped his hand at Scott when his brother frowned in concern. "I'm still a little fuzzy."

"Yeah, she's fine. Her and her brother were taken to the hospital with everyone else after we dragged her, you and Virgil out of the building. She had bad smoke inhalation and some bad burns on her back, but she should be fine." Scott looked at Gordon steadily. "You really did a good job at the rescue . . .and I don't think I've said this, but sorry for yelling at you."

"You were worried, that's how you are," shrugged Gordon. "I said before, it's okay. But seriously, you and Virgil have some trust issues and you're going to need to sort them out before the next rescue. You need to trust Virgil to make the right choice. You may be the field commander and you may be able to see the bigger picture, but you need to know that brothers will always come first."

"As all of you would for me."

"Yeah. _I_ know." He hopped from one foot to the other. "It's Virgil who can't get it through his thick skull. He can be a real moron sometimes. But it explains why he was so shocked when you said to leave me in the building and why he was yelling so much last night. He's terrified you're going to leave him somewhere as well and not come back."

"Why would he…"

Gordon shrugged.

"Some childhood trauma of getting left behind? Maybe on a bus somewhere?" He smirked and then shrugged, looking down. "You're his hero, Scott."

"Oh yeah?" But Scott couldn't deny it pleased him a little. "And whose yours?"

"Aquaman. Now move over, you're hogging the couch."

The End.


End file.
